You Belong To Me
by lisbeth44
Summary: Sookie has been having strange reoccurring dreams of being in bed with a long-haired Viking. So, what happens when she meets the figment of her dreams in the flesh at Fangtasia, only to discover he has been waiting for her and having dreams about her all along? Could it be destiny? Could there be such a thing as soul mates? AU. M rating soon for sexual scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**_I thought it best I probably put on a disclaimer. I own nothing to do with SVM, all belong rightfully to C.H. I am just a very big fan of the book series, as well as the T.V show True Blood, and wanted to try write my first fanfic for fun (which I've probably failed at). I hope you enjoy and that you'll be kind, as I'm very nervous!_**

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**_You Belong To Me_**

It was a reoccurring dream I had often.

I know some people put a lot of stock into decoding their dreams, but with this one, it's significance wasn't one I could figure out.

There was a man.

There was me.

And then, there was a bed.

Put a man and a woman on a bed, and I think you can work out what happens between the two. Kissing, tender and affectionate touching of the face, declarations of love... you name it.

So, the instance I turned out my lamp-light after I arrived home from a busy night of work, it was only bound to happen.

Silky blood-red sheets.

We were tangled in blood-red, silken sheets together. It was always a birds-eye view, and he was always on top. He must have enjoyed dominating me in the bedroom. I could only see the back of his head, his luminously long blonde hair that flowed just beneath his muscular shoulder blades in thick strands.

Iron and barley. I could smell him vividly, even in my dreams.

He must have been a real charmer, because I was giggling fondly at something he was obviously telling me, and reaching up, I had raked my fingers through the long locks of his hair.

Then the raid happened, always the same. They came in out of nowhere, holding long spears and shouting orders at the top of their lungs at us. Only we were oblivious. It always happened like this; We would go on talking, as if we were too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the danger almost.

One of the men grabbed him and shoved him off me. I stretched out my arm to bring him back to me, only I would always end up grabbing nothing but air instead.

But I could never grab him back to me, no matter how hard I tried. They would take him away, always, in the end.

This was how it always happened, and when I jolted awake with a jerk, trying to catch my breath, I was left feeling bereft again, as if I had lost something important to me, something I didn't know I had to begin with.

My eyes focused on the ceiling in the darkness. I could distantly hear the early morning wind rattling my window. My room felt hot and damp, and my body felt all sticky with sweat. My head was throbbing. My heart was racing. I constantly felt this way after the peculiar dream I had experienced. Once it slowly settled onto me that I was safe and sound in my bedroom, I settled back down on my pillow. I was in the safe confines of my Grandmother's ancient house, the house that generations of Stackhouse's had lived in before my time. The dream was only a dream. It hadn't really happened, so I told myself I could rest easy. What was wrong with me, though?

I'd been having the exact dream for years and years now. Even though sometimes I couldn't remember it, the part that stuck to me most was always what haunted me best. The way the long-haired man I had canoodled with was taken from me. The way I couldn't grab him in time to spare the crazy people with spears from taking him from me. I felt such loss, even if it was a dream. As if I knew the person and he had touched me. I had grown to care about him, and it distressed me every time he was taken away from me, no doubt, to suffer an unpleasant fate at the hands of these spear-wielding fellows.

It was crazy to feel that way over an unreal figure in a dream, I know, but there were many times I woke with tears streaming down my face over it. Hell, I didn't even know what the man's face looked like. No matter how many times I had the dream, I never once got the chance to see his face. But I know that, in the dream, he had made me feel loved. Happy. Safe and content. All I could ever see of him was that beautiful, pale-white long hair that ran down his back. I clapped a hand over my mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit. All the time, after the dream, I had the most ill feeling knotting away in my stomach, all because I couldn't bring him back to me on that bed. The loss I felt was that strong, that severe.

I had to often scold myself, remind myself that it was just a silly dream and that I was being downright ridiculous.

It wasn't real. The man wasn't real. Nothing about it was real.

Maybe it was just a sign of me losing it? Maybe I was going crazy? I do have a reputation around town for being a little nutty. Why? Because I'm telepathic. I can read minds. Everyone in town tended to consider me a little coo-coo, which they were probably right about. Maybe the excruciating loss I felt over the man in the dream was another tell-tale sign of that?

Half an hour later, my alarm clock told me it was time to get up to start the early morning shift at work. This was another thing that constantly happened. The dream would seem to occur right before I had to get up to work, so whenever I arrived, I would feel drained and tired and just not in the mood for working. But, as always, sometimes you just have to build a bridge and get over it. So that was what I attempted to do.

I got up, made my bed, and collected my work clothes. Then I trotted to the bathroom and jumped into the shower, hoping it would wake me up a bit and make my spirits more lively for the long day ahead of me. I tried to forget all about the dream and the man, as I washed myself. Whenever I shampooed my hair, I would close my eyes for just one second, lathering the shampoo into my hair till it was a foamy consistency, and his hair would flash by instantly in my mind. A bit like I was touching his hair instead of my own. By opening my eyes up, it always tended to bring me out of that foolish thought pretty quickly.

Often, I tried to push that dream back into the darkest corners of my mind. But when it came to him, it wasn't that easy. Sometimes I even found myself contemplating about him at work, wondering whether he actually was real, or just some made-up figment of my imagination. I guess I pretty much was losing my mind.

The instance I rushed inside Merlotte's, it gave me a distraction for the time being at least.

I got to work pretty fast. I scrubbed down tables and set up the salt-and-pepper shakers, and laid out the menus, so everything was neat before the lunchtime rush came in. When the lunchtime rush came in, so did the beginnings of a headache. I found the lunchtime rush most unbearable of all, because I have always had trouble putting up a mental guard, which meant I unwantedly had to listen into people's thoughts. Most of the time I heard things I had no interest in knowing. One elderly patron was fretting over whether or not her son was gay, because she had found a pornographic magazine hidden beneath his mattress. The pictures mostly consisted of naked men. Go figure.

One of the busty, black-haired waitresses who worked with me, Dawn Greene, was thinking about a bar she had went out to in the late hours of the night last night. It was a vampire bar, in the Shreveport area, called Fangtasia. I tried to tune out, best as I could, trust me. But like most times, it couldn't be helped. I got a real clear visual of the bar; The red walls, the plush vinyl leather seats.

I was just going around tables, jotting down orders, when her next mental image hit me. It was like a slap to the face. It was really lucky I had mastered the practice of facial control, otherwise I would have been scaring half the patrons off.

A scowling face looking at me- no, looking at Dawn as she preened herself in a mission to get his attention. He had a peculiar glow to his face, to his skin. Even in Dawn's vision, I could tell he was pissed and not at all interested in her, which was utterly opposite to what men mostly find themselves in when they see her. Dawn was considered sexy, by the opposite sex- their thoughts told me as much. However, she was about as appealing as dirt to this man. He was displeased by Dawn and yet a man never looked more handsome.

"Yes, can I please have a side order of onion rings with that..." I hummed and tried to look as if I was paying attention, but it was difficult to.

The picture in Dawn's head flashed by again so vividly that I had to grab onto the table to steady myself.

For a second, it was as if all sounds and the customer in front of me, everything, dissolved into silence. I recognized that face Dawn was thinking about. Well, actually, I recognized the long hair.

It was the same man haunting me continuously in my dreams every night. Apparently, he was a vampire. And, apparently he had shot Dawn down, something she was feeling in a huff about.

He was real. I had been dreaming about a real person. _Now how the hell was that possible? How could-_

"Excuse me, young lady! Are you retarded or what?"

Just like that, I was brought back down into the present. And the present was one mean lady peering up at me as if I was mentally incompetent. As I said, it was lucky I had practise in facial control.

"Oh, sorry," I laughed unevenly. "Could you repeat your order for me, please?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed air through her nostrils. _Rude lady indeed._ "I said I wanted a Diet Coke with all that, or are you deaf?"

"Whoops, sorry. I spaced out for a moment there," I told her, trying to work on some charm. "I'll get your order done and ready. Excuse me."

Once I was done putting the rude lady's order through, I went straight over to Dawn. She grinned at me and pushed up her boobs in her white shirt, making them stand out. She was hoping she'd get more tips that way.

"Hey, Dawn. How're things going?"

Dawn and I weren't exactly what you would consider the best of friends, but we got on all right, so long as we didn't get on each other's bad sides.

"I'm good, girl. Real good." Her thoughts told me otherwise.

"Late night last night?" I asked her, hoping to coax some information out of her.

"You could say so, yeah. I finally went down to that vamp bar last night and got my first taste of the undead."

"Cool. What was it like?"

"Kinda boring."

"Was there any hot vamps there?" I asked her, pretending to be real interested. Hunky men was really the only subject that mattered to Dawn.

"Pretty hot, girl. I tried to get me some vampire."

"And how'd that go for you?" I knew fair well how it had gone for Dawn. I didn't feel it polite to say so, though.

"Not too good," she admitted, scrutinizing her fake nails with a frown. "There was one vamp I was real interested in, only turns out he's waiting for somebody extra special. Can you believe that? A celibate vampire. How fucking lame is that?"

I murmured half-heartedly in agreement.

When conversation halted and we both got back to work, I was oddly enough considering heading off to that vampire bar, Fangtasia, myself. Vampires had come out of the coffin two years ago, and everybody here in Bon Temps had a mixed opinion on it. Some hated them and went out of their way to actively show it. Some, like me, just tolerated it and didn't have much to protest on the matter. Truth be told, I found it oddly exciting. But we hadn't had any vampires come here in Bon Temps, so I guess, if you really wanted to go out of your way to meet one, you'd have to redline it to this bar in Shreveport.

What got me intrigued, most of all, was the image of the man Dawn had presented, courtesy of her vivid mind.

He was the same man I had in my dreams. Although I never saw his face once, I just knew it. I had this feeling in me that was impossible to describe. And, like metal to a magnet, or a moth to a flame, I felt I had to go to Shreveport, as if my life depended on it almost. I wasn't sure why I felt that way, but I just did.

So it was exactly what I planned to do. I decided I would go to that bar tonight, the instance my shift finished. I had to see him, in the flesh. Maybe then I would understand what this reoccurring dream meant?

The ending of my shift couldn't have come soon enough. I didn't even bother checking my appearance in the staff bathroom, making sure I looked decent and polished enough. I just had to get going, and time couldn't be wasted. All I merely did, was pull my hair undone from its tight bun that I wore for work, letting my long blonde hair fall down my back in waves. And, there. Done.

Fangtasia, it turned out, wasn't an easy bar to miss. It had a sign, right out the front, blaring in red halogen lights. Apparently they also did good for business, because there was a massive line out front, and a woman in what looked like a black corset was carding people before allowing them entrance. Thankful that I had thought to bring my purse with me, which I kept my license in, I got at the back of the line and waited patiently for my turn. I became self-consciously aware that I was rather underdressed compared to all the other people wanting to go into the bar for the night; Half were wearing very revealing outfits. Some Gothic, and others just downright trashy.

When my time finally came, I put on my best smile and handed the woman my license. She took one quick look at it, turned her eyes on me, then scrutinized my identification again quickly. It was apparent she was having second thoughts on letting me into the bar. It seemed that way, although astonishingly I couldn't hear an ounce of her thoughts.

"Oh, you don't need to worry," I told her politely. "It isn't fake. I really _am_ Sookie Stackhouse, and that really is my license."

It seemed it didn't help any. With a foreboding look, she told me she would be right back. She took my licence in with her, too.

A bad feeling overcame me. What was going on? Why wouldn't she let me in? I certainly was old enough to enter the premises. So what was wrong with me heading in?

I peered in through the door nervously. I could see a bunch of people standing around. Heavy metal music slipped out the door, assaulting my ears from inside. Then the most oddest thing happened. The crowd of people parted, giving way to somebody. As if that person was awfully important. Like a rock-star.

Or a dangerous thug who slaughtered anybody who dared to get in their way.

But all I could see was that woman who had taken my identification sweeping through to reach me again. Did people really think she was that scary? Geez Louise. And then it hit me why belatedly a moment later. He was behind her, following her. It wasn't the woman people were scared of and wary of. It was _him_.

He stood tall compared to the woman he was following, and just with the way he walked, he oozed dominance and physicality, wearing a tight black shirt that had the words _Bite Me_ on it in red writing, and tight black pants that had various dangling chains attached to the pockets, with skulls and other scary little things attached to them. I couldn't take my eyes off him, but it seemed he couldn't take his eyes off me either. He stared at me past the woman's head, his eyes a piercing, arresting blue and intense. I almost felt as if he could see straight through me. Most of all, it was his hair that got to me most.

He was the most scariest thing in the entire world. But, at the same time, he was also the most handsome.

Yes, he _was_ the man who had haunted me in my dreams, all right. I just wasn't sure why he did.

Staring at him, I felt a funny sense of déjà vu.

When they reached me, it was far more scarier up close and personal. My hands actually started to shake, and I felt a rash spread over my chest. Still, I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, and he stared right back at me, keeping up with me for all it was worth.

The woman cleared her throat loudly, capturing my attention. Briskly, I made myself look at her.

"What did you say your name was?" she asked. Her voice was husky, pure American, and she looked very beautiful. But then, her image was sort of ruined, when her fangs ran out at me. I inched back a step cautiously. Then she laughed at my reaction, and the man behind her did as well.

"Um, my name is Sookie Stackhouse," I clarified, sounding way more frightened than I would have liked. "Is there some kind of trouble here? My identification isn't fake. I don't understand why this is happening?"

Without any control on it, my eyes flew up to the man standing behind her again. He was still staring at me, in an oddly intense way. All due to it, I suddenly felt a weird tingling sensation down my spine.

The female vampire thrust my licence back into one of my trembling hands and then, wordlessly, she turned and left, leaving me standing with the man. Strangely enough, I wished she would have returned. Somehow it was all the more nerve-inducing with this man. The man inclined his head, strands of his hair fell into his face, and he gave me a very hard once-over, as if he was memorizing my features or something. He started with my head, paused at my bosom area, paused impolitely at my thighs in my shorts, and then brought his eyes back up to me again. And then, as if his expectations had been met, he stepped back to allow me entrance into the bar.

"Gudinna," he said, in a_ very_ evocative way that told me he was expecting me, "You have kept me waiting very long. I was beginning to grow impatient."

"You've been waiting for me?" I asked incredulously. He didn't even know me, did he?

"I have for over a century," he said, managing to sound matter-of-fact, despite the crazy length of time. "I do hope you don't expect me to wait that long again." His voice rose and swelled with emotion.

When I followed him slowly into the bar, I turned and found him still looking at me, with intense scrutiny. He really, really was equally intimidating and gorgeous. It was unnerving the way he couldn't seem to look away. I felt almost afraid to turn my eyes away from him, for one second, because what if it was exactly like my dream? One moment of looking away, and then he would be taken away from me forever?

"Come with me into my office."

I felt like I had been walloped across the side of my head. Come with him into his office? What for? Somehow, I still felt as if I was in trouble, as if I had done something wrong.

"Look, am I in trouble or something?" I asked nervously, praying he would be straight with me.

A smile broke out across his face; a dazzling, wide, all-teeth-showing smile, with his fangs glistening at me and everything. It took my breath away, and that tingling sensation infected me again, all the way down to my toes.

He didn't bother easing my mind, either way. Startling me, he reached over and hooked his index finger through mine, leading me through the crowd, towards where his office was located. For some reason, I was willing him with my mind inwardly not to let my hand go. Naturally, he did, sliding his finger free when he held the door open for me and, inside, I went. I felt the loss of contact immediately, and for some reason, it left me feeling grief-stricken. It was a stupid feeling, a pathetic one. I didn't know the man at all, aside from some dream. So why should I feel it so intensely?

"Please, take a seat." He showed me over to a leather sofa at the furthest end of his office and I plopped down, keeping my eyes on him anxiously. I still didn't know what this was all about.

I felt a lot happier than I probably ought to have, when he sat down beside me, and turning to face me, I felt our legs touch. Even that roused the most ridiculous feeling of contentment throughout my entire body, and the loss that plagued me instantly receded.

"So, Miss. Stackhouse. What brings you here to Fangtasia?"

"Call me Sookie," I said, my voice hesitant and shy. _Or hell, you can go ahead and call me anything you damn well like._

"Sookie, then," he said, and my name sounded extremely good falling from his tongue. "Whatever the reason was for your visit here tonight, I _do_ hope it was me."

Oh, and that reason sure was him. Maybe he was even aware of it himself.

**This was my first attempt at writing a fanfiction. I would love to hear your thoughts.**

**Gudinna is Swedish for "Goddess", which Eric called her.**

**Would you be interested in more? Sorry if it's real crappy. I don't know if anyone is interested in soul-mate themed stories, but I would love to have your thoughts. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I want to thank you all for your lovely reviews and the alerts I have received. It means the world to me, and I was very surprised. I'm hoping you will enjoy this one. Thank you all for being so kind and sweet, I was terrified of posting online where everyone could see, so I'm very thankful for the result. Hoping this chapter isn't really bad, I'm going to be anxious every time I post one now :P**

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**Chapter Two**

Heavy metal music was thumping around from outside the small confines of his office. I could distantly hear the words to the music, it was an old nineties song- only I never really was hearing them. Not while I was staring into his eyes, anyway. Everything else of my surroundings seemed to drift off into trivial significance.

All that seemed to matter to me, was him. Not much else seemed to be getting through to me.

He was the most beautiful corpse I'd ever seen- if you believed what they said about vampires really being the dead reanimated, anyway. His hair was spilling across his back, tucked behind his ears. He had about the most captivating eyes I had ever seen in my entire life, as cheesy as that sounded. Myriads of emotion flitted in them as he held my gaze: Awe, merriment, and billions of others that I couldn't identify.

It was the strangest sensation imaginable.

Usually, being what I am with my little disability- which was a helpful way to look at it- I was bogged down with noises, I could never seem to get a quiet moment to myself, unless alone. But with him, there was nothing but silence. Nothing but him dominating the room, dominating my attention.

I peered back into his eyes and felt nothing but comfort and security in his presence, as if we were old friends in another lifetime somehow. It couldn't have been furthest away from the truth; I didn't know him, really, did I? Perhaps it was just the dreams I had presenting me a false sense of security around him?

It was, no doubt, risky to feel that way. He was a vampire after all, and if you put stock into anything you heard, he was the biggest threat to my life. Only, for some reason, it didn't feel that way. I ought to have been worried about being stuck in a room with only him. I ought to have felt at least some stirrings of self-preservation bubbling its way up to the surface. Only, I didn't. The nerves and wariness I had felt when first meeting him had seemed to dissipate completely into nothingness. There was nothing there in me, but curiosity into the way he was looking at me, almost gently, as well as a whole lot of fascination.

The more I looked at him, I knew beyond the shadows of a doubt that he was the same long-haired man who had featured in my dreams. How and why, was another dilemma altogether. Did this usually happen to people, where they had frequent dreams of somebody they hadn't met before?

Our thighs were still touching, as he sat closely to me in the seat. I felt nothing more than unbridled joy. And then, I felt something else overpower me completely; Another new, intensely nagging need for physical closeness. Without thinking, I reached over slowly and touched the back of his hand. His hands were clasped out in front of his knees. The instant my fingertips scraped against his skin, finding the contact they so desperately craved, it happened.

The second I touched him, the ceiling light in his office shorted out over us, then returned to brighten the room with a crack.

I flinched and cautiously brought my hand away, folding them in my lap. He didn't flinch at all. It was probably because he was a vampire and, as far as I was concerned, he was immortal. Nothing could hurt him, in the way that it could me.

"This is so... strange." I could hardly get the words out.

"What is?" He sounded utterly oblivious to what had just happened, what with the light flickering off and then on in his office again.

I felt my face going red. It seemed impossible to explain, probably even downright ridiculous. But I had to try.

"This entire thing," I managed, and I was not proud by the sound of my voice. It sounded shaky, breathless on me. "I... I feel as if I know you somehow. I don't know why that is, exactly. But I just do. Of course, I don't think we have actually ever met before, but... you just feel awfully familiar to me."

I couldn't even begin to confess to him of the dreams I had experienced. It just seemed as if that would be taking it a little bit too far. Worst case scenario, he would probably laugh in my face. I looked down at my hands, stifling a delirious laugh.

"I don't even know why I felt the need to come here tonight. I guess it was out of some crazy whim. It wouldn't be the first time I've done something crazy. Maybe I'm just as crazy as people believe?" I was mostly talking to myself, in a way to ease my nerves. I was only human, and when I got nervous, my mouth tended to run in a way I couldn't help.

_No. You are many things, but crazy is not one of them._

I jolted, startled. What? I looked around, but no one was talking to me. I stared up at the vampire's face, only he hadn't talked to me, either, just then; At least, as far as I could tell, he hadn't. His lips hadn't looked as if they had moved. His expression was much the same as it first had been, when I had dared to look at him. I instantly came to regret looking at him again. There was this indescribable pull in place, all due to his gorgeous eyes. I couldn't look away. I was having trouble, yet again.

Just wonderful. So I was hearing more voices again. I didn't need to feel anymore of a lunatic than I already did. Self-disappointment flooded within me lethally. I was now regretting my impulsive decision to come along to the vampire bar. I suppose I hadn't thought it through rationally enough.

_Oh, no. I am most delighted that you made the decision to come to me. I only wonder what has taken you so long to find me._

There it was again, a voice so quiet, a male's voice I could barely hear. It was like it was coming straight from the back of my skull. I felt as if I was definitely going nuts. I heard people's thoughts, yes. But usually, they didn't hear mine. Nor did they respond to me, as if they knew what I was thinking.

_Yes, this is a most strange experience for me also._

I looked more closely at the vampire sitting beside me. I was positive it was his voice inside my head. It had to be him. Yet how? Since I had never been around vampires very much, I didn't know whether my ability extended to them or not. Even now, with what was happening, I still couldn't be sure. The vampires face gave nothing away, any tell-tale sign that it was him who was speaking to me, at least through my mind. Why should I be so surprised, though? I have heard voices inside my head ever since I could remember. Why should it freak me out now?

Just to convince myself I wasn't as much as a lunatic as I thought, I tried it out for myself. _Frankly, I find you real intimidating_, I thought, watching his face closely for any tell-tale sign.

I heard the sharp intake of breath he gave out: A sharp hiss through the gaps of his teeth.

_Yes, you should find me very intimidating. Most usually do, and they have their reasons to be. However, you do not need to fear me. I wish you no harm. Causing you harm and losing you twice would be more than I could bear._

Oh, well, wonderful. We were having a conversation, except we weren't. We were inside each other's heads. Not in a million years did I think it was possible. Usually, it was only just me annoying people by getting inside their heads. Now I knew how it felt. I could hear him, clearly, inside my head, as if he was whispering the words in my ear.

_Yes, I did not know this was possible myself. This is most extraordinary._

I laughed out loud- almost. This was crazy. _Has this happened to you before? Conversing with people through minds, I mean?_

A small smile parted his lips, enough that I could see the sharp tips of his glistening fangs. His eyes were alight with humour. _Usually, no. You do not seem as surprised as I do? Is this something that has happened to you before?_

I wasn't sure if I should tell him, but since he assured me he couldn't bear the idea of causing me any harm, I guess that gave me courage.

_Truth be told, I've had to live this with my whole life. I can hear people's thoughts. Everything is always so blah-blah-blah. Guess with you it isn't any different._

He gave a perceptible nod of his head at me, and his blonde hair fell into his eyes. A wry smile curled his lips. _Can you hear everything I am thinking? Or just... me conversing with you?_

The intensity of his eyes searching into mine deeply became suddenly overwhelming. I looked away. I looked down at my hands, crossing them in my lap.

_Nope, it isn't nearly as bad as with other people. I can just hear things you are directing at me, not what you're thinking completely._

_That is most reassuring then_, he said, and by the way I heard him, it sounded as if he was still smiling. _You wouldn't like to hear what I am completely thinking._

I felt my pulse race, with fear. My throat tightened and I had some trouble swallowing. _I've had dreams about you_. I couldn't bear looking at him, as I admitted that. I kept my eyes on my hands, but tried to gauge his reaction to that out of the corner of my eye. I thought I felt his body stiffen; His shoulders especially.

_Yes, as have I._

I couldn't help it; I looked, shocked. _You have as well?_

_Yes._ Though he was very still and rigid, I saw a muscle in his throat twitch. _A hundred years worth of them._

"But how is that possible?" I wondered, out loud, using my voice again. My voice sounded funny, even to me. It sounded hoarse, croaky, as if I had something stuck in it. A piece of food or something. "I was only born twenty-three years ago? You've really dreamt of me that long, before I even came into the world?"

"Yes." The word was loud, harsh, slipping out through his gritted teeth. He turned his eyes on me, and he looked so incredibly pale. He finally had some identifiable emotion on his face that I could work out. He looked almost stressed. Frightened. His eyes were troubled, like a blue sea before the storm hit roughly. "As to how that is possible, I do not know the answer to that myself. But the reason you feel you know me, is perhaps exactly that. I knew you once many, many years ago. We were lovers at one stage, but you and I had to realize it would never work. Still, I had high hopes to see you again, and here you are. Perhaps you have finally returned to me?"

_But that can't be possible_, I thought, frustrated, forgetting he could hear me. _I wasn't around_.

Shock hit me, when I felt his hand slip over mine, tightening. His fingers were calloused, dry, and cold.

Frighteningly, everything around me suddenly changed. My surroundings changed. I was no longer in this vampires office. The setting was completely different, but there was me. Me, in a different time, a different setting. Me, and him.

_It was midnight, and the moon was round and full._

_She was in the small village market, carrying a cane basket, a sack tied over her wrist that held coins inside. The stalls inside the market were illuminated by a few flame posts. She was inspecting the fruit, selecting tomatoes and inspecting them for any spoilage and bruises with a delicate flick of her wrist. The markets weren't busy at this time of the night, but she enjoyed the time alone. It comforted her. She plopped the tomato down and strolled over to the stall that held round fruits. She picked up a round orange, inspected it closely, then brought it up to her nose, inhaling in the scent of sweet citrus. And then she felt it, as did the winds itself. The flames of the lamp posts fizzled out for one minute, casting everything into an eery darkness, before coming back to life again._

_A dark presence was near._

_As if she could feel some intangible pull towards her, she turned and looked. A man was standing behind her, pretending to inspect the fruits and vegetables himself. She gave him a mere curious and fleeting glance, before turning away disinterestedly. His long hair was tied back. He had a long piece of barley grass in his mouth, which he was nibbling on with his teeth. She went on, ignoring his presence, while he stared at her, without her knowing. A few times he reached out to touch her, to place his hand on her shoulder, but he lost courage._

_Nights passed where he would come along at the markets to admire her from afar. She didn't think anything of it, as he kept himself within distance and sometimes he lurked, far in the shadows, where he knew he was safe from her roaming eyes. Then, one night, he grew enough confidence to approach her. She didn't even see him coming. He came towards her from behind, as she was smelling fruit, getting lost in the scents that washed over her. He placed his hands gently on her hips, after a moment of obvious hesitation, and she stiffened, surprised. He bent down to whisper something low in her ear, and a rush of emotion crossed his features._

_S__he was afraid, but she forced herself to turn and look at him._

_And, the instance her eyes met his, she never looked back._

_From that day onwards, she would meet him secretly and privately, come dark._

_They would stay in many hotels together, before the night hours grew too old. Her family eventually became suspicious. Her mother had interrogated her that day, and when they came together come nightfall again, she had already made up her mind. She was frightened to tell him, and he could sense that. He watched her pace about, his mind overworking like a clock. And then, suddenly, with a strained cry, she broke down sobbing stormily. He rushed to her and held her at arm's length, eager to comfort her. He hushed her with gentle-spoken words. What he didn't know, was that she couldn't be consoled. It was already far too late._

_She told him that their affair had to end, no matter how glorious it had been. His reaction frightened her. In a tremulous rage, he began taking things and throwing them across the room. Picture frames smashed and glass bottles broke in shards. She fell down on the bed, covered in the most luxurious spreads of silk red sheets, buried her face in her hands, and cried noisily._

_He looked down at her on the bed wildly, and felt shame at losing his temper._

_He came towards her, sat on the bed next to her, and pulled her in his arms. This would be the last time, their last embrace, and he knew it. Her heart beat faster and faster as his white face came towards hers. Then he kissed her, long and hard; a kiss bittersweet with goodbyes. At his lips' touch, she blossomed for him, pulling up her dress, and as they made their last act of love, he knew in his mind that he would be changed forever. He would never love another, so long as he lived. And he held within him the obstinate belief that she would return to him, in some form or another, and that the Gods would let him know._

I slipped my hand away from his, and opened my eyes. I could feel my entire body trembling. What was that?

**Hoping this one wasn't bad? Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I enjoyed reading them. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I want to thank you all so much. Hoping this one isn't bad haha.**

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**Chapter Three**

He raised my hand slowly to his lips, his eyes watching me.

_I do hope you visit again._

Like a good girl, I got myself out of the dangerous situation before I could do something I wouldn't be able to take back. I was scared, and confused, about everything. I hadn't felt this way before, right off the bat, just by meeting someone. He overwhelmed me completely.

There were other things I had to think about, other people who were involved in my life. Other people it would be unfair to, and it frightened me; how much a man could make me feel, in such a brief space of time.

Other people in my life such as...

My honey, JB.

JB and I met in high school, and we just instantly clicked.

I had always wanted to be normal, so JB was basically my sure-fire ticket to that. He didn't know about my telepathy gift, which made things a lot easier. At the same time, however, it made things all the more complicated.

It wasn't easy pretending I couldn't hear JB's thoughts. I had to go to extreme lengths to make sure I didn't answer him by his thoughts accidentally. There were plenty of times where he was thinking, and I had almost slipped up, answering his thoughts instead of what he was telling me verbally. It was exhausting, half the time, just trying to keep up the pretence. But, bless him, JB was a wonderful man, as much as he could be for one who was rather simple and not very bright. Partly, that was the reason I enjoyed being with him so much: Everything was simple, and easy between us, most of the time. We did the usual things couples did, in heading out to the movies. He made me laugh, which I always thought was an important thing in a relationship.

You had to be with someone you could share jokes with.

It also helped that he was very easy on the eyes. JB worked as part of the construction crew with my older brother, Jason, repairing old roads and roofs. Naturally, it gave him a lot of upper-body strength. He was a foot taller than me, dark-haired and blue-eyed. He also had the most adorable set of dimples I had ever seen on a man, whenever he smiled jubilantly at me. JB was always happy, which at first was a lot to take in. He never seemed to get into grumpy moods, and he always did things for me without me even bothering to have to ask first (like removing garbage bags out of the liner and doing the dishes), which I loved.

It also tended to perk me up something marvellous when I heard him thinking about how good I looked in lingerie with my tan (Not that he knew I was privy to his thoughts, of course).

But there was something that always seemed to throw a spanner in our relationship:

_My dreams._

I had spoken of my dreams to JB, once or twice, when I woke with a pounding heart beside him in bed, drenched in sweat. He always knew the right things to reassure me with, whenever I experienced them.

He would tell me they weren't real. The man I was dreaming of wasn't real. How wrong he was.

The man I had dreamed of _was_, in fact, real. He was living and managing a vampire bar, called Fangtasia, in the Shreveport area. And, all because of this, I wasn't looking forward to reaching home, like I usually was.

I didn't know what to think. I had a million things on my mind, regarding how it went meeting the vampire of my dreams tonight. It had turned out beyond all belief. We could communicate telepathically through our minds, which was something I never dreamed would happen between myself and another person. Being in his company also had seemed to swipe out the fact that I was in a two-year-old relationship with JB, which wasn't a very good thing. All that, added with the troubling fact that I felt as if I knew the man. The connection between us had felt almost instantaneous, which overwhelmed me. Everything he did seemed to set my body alight, something I found myself not at all proud of.

So, as I was driving towards home where JB and I lived, I made a decision to myself in the privacy of my car: I would not return to the vampire bar, as much as I could help it. Besides, hadn't I just gone there out of a whim, only to satisfy the curiosity I was feeling?

I had gone there, done that. I had no reason to go there again, unless I wanted to start some unnecessary trouble in my comfortable relationship with JB.

The instance I got inside, I was assaulted by the glorious scent of food wafting around our apartment. It was also another thing I loved about JB: He made dinner for me, and often. You just never had to ask, with JB. He just went and did it, being as considerate as he was.

I made my delight known loudly as I hung up my purse on the rack behind the front door, where we usually kept our jackets. "Mm, something smells real good in there," I called, smiling happily. "I love coming home to a house smelling of yummy food."

When I strolled into the kitchen, JB was setting out hot food on two plates. JB wasn't as good a cook as a chef, but it was the thought that counts and you would be downright ungrateful to complain. I bent over to kiss JB chastely on the cheek, but it was kind of ruined when he turned and caught me off-guard, by prolonging it. JB was still in his work uniform, which consisted of overalls with a white shirt and jeans underneath. He was also still wearing his frayed baseball cap, too, which hit me in the forehead and got in the way.

When he pulled back and broke the kiss, he grinned down at me. "Go sit, babe. I set the table. Lemme just bring the plates in and we're ready."

Wordlessly, I nodded and went to the dining table. I noticed something particularly disturbing, in our exchange: It was how I felt, while he pecked me on the lips. I didn't get that same feeling I did with the vampire tonight. With JB, there wasn't any spine-tingling sensations at all. What did that mean? Was there something wrong with all that?

"How was work today?" he asked, as he came around to set my plate in front of me. On the menu tonight was chicken wings, a pile of rice, and corn on the cob. As I said, it wasn't fair to complain, and I'm not really that picky.

"Work was same as usual," I answered simply, collecting my silverware. I felt it was right to deliberately miss out on a few key events of my day, particularly ones involving the fact that I had gone out to that vampire bar this evening and had met the man who haunted me continuously in my dreams. I knew for a fact that it would have only made JB feel insecure. "How was work for you? Did you see Jason?"

"I did, yeah." As he got seated, JB jumped straight into his meal. The only one flaw I can think of, about JB, was that he was a loud and messy eater. He talked with his mouth full. So, it hardly surprised me when he went on, through a mouthful of rice, "Jason's real good. There isn't really anything different to report."

The oddest thing happened after that: We fell into an awkward silence, which usually didn't happen for us. We never said anything more to each other, not even when I helped him wash and put away the dishes. But as we decided to get an early night, things weren't so different in that aspect. I got changed out of my work clothes, stood around in my lingerie, and JB did as well, wearing nothing but his shorts. Then, as we both slid into bed under the sheets, he tried fooling around with me a bit. We kissed and as he put his calloused hands to use on me under the sheets, nothing worked.

This was another worrying thing about our relationship: No matter what JB did, I couldn't seem to get in the mood for sex. It had happened for a little over two months now. I knew it wasn't JB's problem: His mechanics worked just fine, and he got an erection every time we did. I knew it wasn't anything to do with me not feeling attracted to JB, either, because I was very much so attracted to him. He was sexy, in a grungy way. It was just me, though. All me. I wasn't sure whether there was something wrong with my libido or not, but I just couldn't reach an orgasm, no matter how hard I tried to get myself into the right frame of mind for some overdue loving with him.

No matter how many times I closed my eyes and focused on nothing but the sensations of him touching me, of him being inside me, sheathed in a condom... nothing seemed to do the trick. Half the time, I usually just laid there, while JB moved around on top of me, grunting and groaning. I would just let him use my body to find his own completion that he so desperately needed. Not once did I find my own, though.

Once JB was done, he let me know... and loudly.

"Fuck, Sook," he called out in a strained voice, and then he went limp. Half the time, he always got a bit carried away, which I assumed most men did when it came to fulfilling their physical needs, because he didn't realize how unresponsive I had been until afterwards. Once his breathing slowed, he finally peered down at me. His expression was always the same after it happened: Embarrassed and full of shame. "Did anything happen for you?" he asked, always with that hopeful tinge to his voice.

And, like every other time before it, I was reduced to lying. Somehow JB could never tell I was faking, anyway. Even if he did, it would have injured his ego. "It happened so big for me that I can't even move," I whispered, and that cheered him up something wonderful.

His smile became more secure, and those dimples flashed down at me. "Well, that's good, babe. I wasn't sure. You were being so quiet down there."

"Well, I'm not much of a moaner."

It had definitely cheered JB up, enough for him to fall asleep sated and in high-spirits. JB was a snorer, another little pesky thing that irritated me. Sometimes he was so loud it was difficult to fall asleep. Tonight was the same, and in order to exhaust myself out a bit, I got up and decided on a soothing shower.

I sighed as I grabbed my nightgown and ignored JB's snoring.

Sometimes I just wished I could orgasm. I didn't know why I was having trouble doing something so simple as that. I wasn't on any medication that I heard could affect your libido. There wasn't any stressful goings on in my life at present- at least not compared to the norm, anyway. Just once, I would have liked for JB and I to find a release together and for me not to have to put on a phony façade about being turned-on with him. It wasn't always this way, at the start: We used to do it like bunnies, and I had no problem then.

Now it was just a rare event that never seemed to happen for me.

I got in the bathroom, pulled a towel on the floor, and whisked the plastic shower curtain to one side. I turned on the water and made it flow on maximum heat, knowing it would make me sleepy easier. I stepped in, pulled the plastic curtain over myself, and pushed my head under the stream, letting the water saturate every inch of my long hair.

I washed my hair with my favourite scented shampoo. It smelt like frangipani and tended to relax me after a hard and long day. Then I grabbed the body wash from the little holder, squirted some into the loofah sponge we had, and started rubbing around the back of my legs with it. It was only then I allowed myself to think of him.

It wasn't even conscious, really. I thought about his voice and the way he had looked at me tonight, so intensely, when he first came towards the door with the female vampire that had carded me. I thought about the way he made my body feel: Like it was highly attuned to him, and how he gave me little tingles all over. I thought about his lovely long hair, the way his eyes held mine in, the captivating colour of them, like the deepest part of the ocean. I had a difficult time looking away from him, and I wasn't sure if it was my dreams that had influenced that, or just how powerful his presence was in a room naturally. I hadn't ever felt such an extreme reaction to a man before. Not even with JB, which was just terrible, considering he was meant to be my boyfriend and all.

And his voice... The way we had conversed telepathically! I wondered it would be like to have him near me, right now, in the shower, speaking to me through my mind. Him telling me sweet, dirty nothings. His hands on my body... Without realizing, I dropped the loofa to the tiles. My hand brushed over the peak of my right breast. I imagined it was his hand and fingers doing it, circling over my nipple, stroking me.

And it felt really, _really_ good.

Just the thought made me completely aroused, surprisingly. I wasn't even aroused before, not even close to it, while JB was on top of me, doing things... but now. Thoughts of him consumed me, completely. As I closed my eyes, I saw nothing but the image of him. His face, his eyes. His... fangs glistening. My name had sounded so right coming from his lips... his voice...

I felt my hand slip down to the flat surface of my belly and into the yielding mound between my legs. The soft hair there was wet from the shower water, but above all that, I felt this funny throbbing. This... needful aching. Even JB couldn't make me feel this way. How was it possible that it took me so long to get hot and bothered with JB, and yet, within seconds, I was completely and utterly crazy for this man I didn't even know well, aside from some dreams I had experienced, and the way he had made me feel, in such a moment of time?

It was such a bad thing to feel, a pathetic and dangerous one.

I had a good thing going with my man, JB. And yet, he never once in two years had made me feel as wonderful as I had in that office, with that vampire. It just felt as if we had truly connected, that we knew each other somehow.

How could it be, though? He had said he was waiting for me. I hadn't been around for that long. And that vision? That girl couldn't have really been me, could it? It couldn't have been. It just couldn't be me!

Despite how wrong it felt, doing this, especially when I had a wonderful man in JB, it also felt like the most right thing in the world to be doing.

It was like I had no control over what my hands were deciding to do to me.

A finger slipped in between my slippery folds in a single stroke. Oh, God! This made me think about his fingers, as they had reached over to touch mine, and then what had happened so dramatically afterwards. The vision, from years and years ago. Wondering - somewhat naughtily- what it would be like to have his fingers actually stroking me intimately like this, I slipped one completely inside, asserting pressure firmly. I let out a little gasp at the sensation. My other hand had just as much of a mind of its own, as this one did; In cupping one of my breasts, and as I kept up movement, sensation overtook me in a delightful way.

The heat of the water and overwhelming sensation of his face filling my retinas as I closed my eyes, the way I envisioned his hands doing this to me, it was too intoxicating. I could see his face, so vividly, as if he was right with me. I started chanting his name softly. Just repeating it over and over. The way he had kissed my hand goodbye, the way it sounded through his mind to mine...

_"Eric Northman... Eric Northman... Eric..."_

I wasn't going to last long. I pushed in, a little more forcefully with my fingertips, and then that's when I felt it. It seemed like it hadn't happened in months, since I had. My body tensed, and I felt my insides contract around my fingers. All air left my lungs in a gasp, as I experienced the most intense orgasm. It came hard and fast, taking my entire body prisoner. My hand stilled and remained in place as I caught the tiled wall with my free hand for support, before my legs gave out. Sweet Jesus! JB had never given me one like this before!

_"... Eric... Northman."_ I let myself say the beautiful man's name one single last time, in no more than a hushed whisper.

My legs felt so incredibly wobbly. I felt as if the pressure streaming on my back from the shower head could have possibly been enough to knock me off my feet. My breathing took a bit to return to normal, and as I slowly reopened my eyes, it took a bit for the black little dots coating them to fade. Suddenly, I felt completely at ease. An easy laugh escaped my lips and I could feel nothing but unreserved contentment and fulfilment sexually. It had been so long since I was able to find a proper release, and now, there it just was.

That contentment didn't last long, however...

Gradually, I stayed under the water for a little while longer recovering, it turned into guilt and disgust, with myself. What was I doing? Had I really just gone and done that, in fantasizing about another man while my real man was in bed snoring his head off? Aren't I just disgraceful?

JB has been nothing but sweet and faithful to me, and yet, here I am... thinking about and getting off on the image of another guy?

But tonight at the bar comes back to me.

Maybe this was meant to happen, all along? After all, he said he has waited for me over a century now. I had seen his vision. The woman had looked a lot like me; Yet... how can that be? Aren't I too young?

Could it be possible to know someone from in a former life? Could there be such a thing as... reincarnation- was that it? Maybe I just reminded him of someone he knew years ago? But then how does that explain the familiarity I felt around him?

It all just didn't make any logical sense to me at all. I felt as if I was going crazy.

But what could I do about it? Nothing, I decided, as I switched off the taps in the shower. It wasn't right of me to do anything. I have a boyfriend. It wasn't right, no matter how intense I felt a connection with the vampire, Eric Northman. I shouldn't do anything.

**I'm sorry for making Sookie have a boyfriend, but this will be mostly an Eric/Sookie story. I just wanted to show she couldn't even have a normal relationship, without feeling that something is missing. So sorry to disappoint. Thank you for your reviews, I love reading them and receiving alerts! Thank you :) **


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